A Thin Line, Held?
by Teotwaki
Summary: On a quest for vengeance, a Guardian goes too far. He has a difficult time reconciling his guilt with himself, and his actions with his ghost. But in times like this, grace, honesty, and forgiveness go a long way. A one shot based on the lore entry of the Thin Line hand cannon. Feel free to tell me what you think.


There was a saying, older than Humanities knowledge of the Traveler, that went, "When you go out seeking revenge, you better dig two graves."

But what did that mean for individuals who could not die?

The Titan knew there was more to the saying than that.

It could have meant that the extra grave is for the one you lost, it could mean that yourself die, or it could be symbolic. Meaning the death of the person you were.

It could be none, it could have been all.

He did know however, that these thoughts would remain locked in his head. Secreted away from all his friends, allies, and even his ghost.

The last of which hovered over the flight console, actively peering from one console to the other, to her map, back again, checking the status in the hull, the bay, anywhere and everywhere.

As long as it wasn't at him.

She had been opposed to this journey from the start.

Rightfully so.

What with the deals he had to make, the fights he got into, the risks he took, the compromises he made. She had been right.

It hurt so damn much to acknowledge that truth, but he knew she was right. It broke his heart that she would not look at him; no congratulations, no bubbling recollections, no excited "what nexts," and not even an angry rebuke.

Silent as a grave.

He would have preferred anything else.

As he cradled the last remaining object of his nearly six month long obsession, Cayde-6's 'Ace,' he felt his mind fixate on the fast approaching homecoming.

His mind was not at rest, as he had presumed it would be. It was a storm that tortured him with waves of grief and remembrance and shame. Images of Cayde, the deaths of the killers responsible, and the fear of what awaited him at his return.

There would be rejoicing, healing, and closure for all.

All but him.

Just then she spoke up, and his heart swelled. But then crashed down just as quickly when she said, without any emotion, "We are landing at the Tower."

As an Exo, his facial cues were nearly unreadable if he wanted them to be. But he donned his Prodigal helmet anyways, wishing to have something to act as a barrier between him and whoever awaited him.

The situation being what it was, instead of being transmatted into the common area, the ship swung around and dropped the tail ramp. As he exited the cockpit and caught a glimpse of his home, he saw the swathes of guardians, guards, citizens, and vendors alike who had gathered.

At first there was no reaction, but as he stepped out they caught a glimpse of the Ace of Spades and they began cheering.

Tears were shed, streamers flew, Lord Shaxx clapped him on the back so hard he almost fell, he made eye contact with Zavala at the end of his perch and he made no move to come to him. Ikora appeared, pain in her eyes as she gently feathered her fingers across the weapon as if it would disappear if she were too rough with it. It was in terrible condition, having been abused by the late Prince Uldren, so maybe it was less disbelief and more distress.

"I'll take it to Banshee, get it fixed up for the Vanguard." The Titan said, trying to assure her.

"I appreciate you offering that, but it is yours now. He would want you to have it." She said. Her eyes said that she wanted to say so much more, but instead she turned and left.

Trying to make his way through the crowd, as respectfully as possible was difficult, but he eventually made his way to Banshee's stand. The old bot was waiting for him, dead serious as always.

But as he raised up the weapon for him to take, the scowl that was built into his face twisted into an approximation of a frown.

"I'll fix that up for you, I'll let you know when its done." Gently taking the Ace, he retreated into his shop, dimming the front lights as he left.

There would be no more business that day.

As the Titan turned, the crowd pressed in on him once more. All grasping at his mark and asking questions, questions, and questions upon questions.

As he floundered for a response, she appeared.

His ghost appeared in a brilliant flash, and offered him an escape.

"Guardian? I believe we are needed elsewhere?"

Not trusting his voice, he nodded quickly.

Immediately the oppressive crowds, lights, and questions disappeared.

He was in the middle of his room in the tower, a humble room. Bed, desk, and a trunk, not much else needed for the life of a Guardian.

If the crowds in the plaza had been claustrophobic, this room felt like being stranded in a desert.

The shame was too much. It wasn't going away. Why had he fought so hard to feel this way.

He collapsed to his knees and began to weep.

Since he was a machine, he could not truly weep. No tears fell. And no sobs racked his chest.

He could only curl up into a ball as his body shook, overwhelmed with emotions it no longer had the proper responses to.

For a moment, he remained like that, drowning in his sorrow.

But was pulled from it when a brilliant, blue and white light shone on him. Looking up, he saw that its was his ghost. She was letting the Light from within her shine on him, used for healing his wounds and bringing him back to life. But he was in no danger of either at the moment.

"Little Light? What are you-" He started before she hushed him.

Not abrasively or as a rebuke, but with a soothing voice.

"Shhhhh, Guardian. This is the closest thing I can do to hugging you. To comforting you."

As he paid attention to it, it was not the normal sensation that came with the Light, it was warmer. More tangible.

And it was all around him, caressing his face, draped over his shoulders, resting on his hand.

It felt so amazing, and yet somehow made the pit of shame and sorrow within him a thousand times worse.

He pulled tighter within himself.

"Why do you pull away from me?" She asked. She was not hurt by his actions, but concerned.

"I don't- that is, I am not sure." He struggled.

"You have been a Guardian so long, I believe that you have forgotten how to be human." Her light coaxed him to his knees.

The light cupped his face, hugged under his arms, attempting to soothe him.

"You are allowed to grieve." She said kindly. "When you became a guardian, when you became a titan, it was not expected that you shed what is inside."

He nodded into the light, still unable to look up.

He finally managed to say something, "I'm sorry."

And it was like a dam burst, he began listing every single thing about this journey of vengeance that he had felt wronged her. He was sorry for putting her in danger, for compromising his values, what the city fought for, for forgetting why he was here in the first place.

His body began to shake again.

She calmly listened, and waited. For all the sorries to cease, and the shaking to subside.

Then she spoke.

"Did you know I made a list? Of all the things I wanted to tell you. But I could never work myself up to say. Would you mind if I told you now?" Her voice was so soft, but the words stabbed him inside.

He nodded, too shameful to speak.

"In the moments you were silent, I wanted to ask you about how you felt. But it never felt like the right time. When we were out for so long that you collapsed, I wanted to tell you that I wanted us to go home." She said.

He saw now, how selfish he had been. And it made him feel wretched.

"When the fighting was fierce and instead of weathering it you became fiercer, I wanted to tell you how I was uncomfortable with your rampage. But I rationalized it with the danger we were facing. When we left the tower for so long and neglected our people, I wanted to remind you that this I did not think this was what the Traveler had planned for you. But that felt cruel." She said. "Sometimes I would see the look in your eyes, and I wanted to call out for the person you were before we left."

He looked back on who he had been, and was disgusted with himself.

She paused a moment, and as she spoke this time her voice trembled.

"I wanted to remind you that I would never leave you. That I would never run or allow myself to be taken away from you. I wanted to bring you close, just like now, and remind you that I am here. I am still here." She said.

He saw all the moments that he had drawn her close and out of danger. Every close call that had seemed like the beginning of a forever without her.

Her voice only became more emotional, and the shame inside felt like it would consume him.

"I wanted to look you in the eyes." He forced himself to look at her gleaming body. "I wanted to ask you. Are you still here? I don't want to lose you to this."

He could have sworn that his eyes stung with hot tears, felt the wetness on his face, and the pain in his lungs as if he were trying to breath between sobs. All feelings he had thought lost.

She floated close now, the coaxing of her light not allowing the shame to turn or hang his head.

"I wanted to confess to you, to remind you, to promise you." She said as her shell gently pressed against his forehead. "I love you."

He grieved with her. For almost two hours he stayed in her embrace. Whispering barely audible apologies and expressing the same love for her. As they stayed like that, the grief came and went. Gradually receding into a small, dense pit.

It did not go away entirely. Nor did either of them expect it to for a very long time. But now it was no longer growing, and for that the Titan and Ghost were thankful.

From then on, the two were closer than before, not wishing to stray as far as they had before. The Guardian worked to once again be worthy of the title bestowed upon him, and to never again forsake his people or his partner. The ghost would bathe him in her light, so that he would remember her promises and confessions.

Together, they would not need to fear the Darkness.


End file.
